


Don't You Remember

by blakefancier



Series: Young Lovers [18]
Category: Captain America (2011)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-19
Updated: 2012-04-19
Packaged: 2017-11-03 21:47:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/386313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blakefancier/pseuds/blakefancier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things heat up for the boys (and in Steve's case, literally).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't You Remember

It was late when Howard finally looked up from the prototype he was working on; his back ached, he had a crick in his neck, and his eyes burned. Howard set down his screwdriver and flexed his hand. Maybe he'd have a drink, then find out when Steve left. No doubt Howard hadn't been paying attention when Steve said goodbye; it happened, not often, but sometimes. 

Ugh, but maybe he should change into clean clothes first; the ones he was wearing were grimy. He stretched, rubbed his sore neck, then headed up to his bedroom. 

Howard did a slight double take when he saw Steve curled up on his bed, shivering. He sat on the bed and gently shook Steve's arm. "Babe, wake up. What are you doing here? You were supposed to be home an hour ago."

Steve rolled onto his back and Howard frowned: he was flushed and sweaty. "Don't feel good."

Howard pressed a hand to his forehead and hissed softly. "You're burning up. I'm going to call your mom."

"No." Steve grabbed Howard's wrist; his hands were clammy. "I'm okay. You don't need to tell her."

"Like hell I don't. What did SHIELD say about the fever?"

Steve swallowed hard. "They said a low grade fever was normal."

"This isn't a low grade fever, Steve. When was the last time you went in for a check up?" He kept feeling Steve's face, alarm making his stomach roil.

"A month. I've been really busy with school. I'm sorry, Howard." Steve looked so miserable that he couldn't be angry.

"Shh, it's all right. I'm going to call your mom and when she gets here, we're going to talk to Fury."

"Oh—" Suddenly Steve's eyes rolled back and he began to seize.

For one moment, one brief moment, fear pushed everything from Howard's mind and all he could do was sit there, frozen and unsure. Then he thought, _I should do something_ and everything came rushing back. Steve was all right, there was nothing Howard could do for Steve but make sure he was breathing.

Howard pulled out his phone and dialed Fury's number: it picked up on the first ring. "We've got a medical emergency. Steve's fever's spiked and he's convulsing. Get your people here. Now! And have someone pick up Sarah." He tossed his phone on the nightstand and waited out the seizure. 

When Steve finally slumped back on the bed, his face was clammy and pale and the skin under his eyes looked bruised. Howard checked his breathing and pressed trembling fingers to his neck to check his pulse.

Steve moaned, eyes fluttering open. "H-Howard?" he said, sounding confused.

"I'm right here, babe." Howard stroked Steve's hair and pressed a kiss to his forehead. 

"I don't feel good."

"I know, that's why I need you to just sit tight." Howard took Steve's hand and gave him a reassuring smile. "An ambulance will be here soon, okay?"

"Okay." Steve closed his eyes and said, in a slurred voice, "Tired."

"Rest," he said softly. "I won't leave you. I promise." 

*****

It took SHIELD fifteen goddamn minutes to get to his place. Then to make matters worse, the EMT tried to keep him from climbing into the emergency vehicle with Steve because he wasn't family or an agent.

Howard grabbed him by the shirt and got in his face. "Listen to me you medical school dropout, I don’t give a flying fuck about your training or your position at SHIELD, if you don't let me in with Steve I will eviscerate you. Then I'm going to hunt down all your family members and make sure they spend the rest of their lives in some shithole rattrap in Bumfuck, Iowa. Now get the fuck out of my way!" Howard shoved the EMT and got into the back of the vehicle. He took Steve's hand and squeezed it gently. "Still here, pal," he said. "I'm still right here." 

*****

Of course, once they got to the SHIELD facility, he wasn't allowed in the exam room with Steve. He considered pressing the issue, but the EMT he'd threatened earlier was talking animatedly with an agent.

*****

They let Sarah thorough without a hassle and he reminded himself that Sarah was Steve's *mother." 

_So quit being a whiny asshole, Howard._

He paced the length of the waiting room and fought the urge to track down a nurse or doctor and grill them on Steve's condition. Someone would come out when they knew something. 

*****

When Sarah walked into the waiting room fifteen minutes later, Nick a few steps behind her, she looked upset. No, no, she looked furious and Howard's mouth went dry with fear. Was Steve's situation worse than he thought? Was history repeating itself? Was he going to go back there and find a dried husk that was once a lively, happy young man?

"Sarah, what—" He let out a cry of pain and stumbled back as she punched him in the mouth. "What the fuck! What was that for?"

"You're lucky I don't rip your balls off, you sick bastard!" She lunged for him, but Nick grabbed her. "I've spent the last eight months watching you seduce and twist my little boy into something he's not! I've seen Steve transform from a happy, trustworthy, honest young man to a liar and a sneak. I've watched him fall apart. I've watched him change his dreams for you and I've said *nothing.* But you've gone too far now, Howard Stark."

Howard gently touched his mouth and shook his head. "What the hell are you talking about?" 

"You…. *brutalized* him!" Her voice broke.

"I *what!* I would never—" And then he stopped, because he suddenly understood what she was referring to. A few days earlier he and Steve had… Steve had wanted it rough and Howard obliged.

"That's right." Her hands clenched into fists and he knew that if Nick hadn't held her back, she would have punched him again. "We saw the bruises, the scratches, the bite marks!" 

"It's not what you think! It—" Howard pressed his lips together because what could he say? He did it, he gave Steve those marks.

"You can't even deny it, can you?" Sarah jerked out of Nick's grip and walked up to Howard. He took a step back and swallowed hard. "You stay away from him. Do you hear me, Howard? Because if you don't, I'll kill you. And I promise you, no one will convict me, not after they hear about what you've done."

"Sarah," he said, softly, wishing he had the words to make her understand. "I love him. I would never—"

"But you did! Stay away from my son." She turned and stormed away.

Nick sighed and rubbed his face. "You know, Howard, I've always given you a lot of slack because I know your history, but this..."

Howard held out his hands, imploringly. "You don't understand. He *asked* for it."

Nick shoved Howard up against the wall and snarled, "Is that how you excuse it?"

He shook his head. "Nicky, come on, you know me!"

"I thought I did. I thought I knew you." Nick took a few steps back. "Get help, Howard. And get the fuck off my base."

"What about Steve? Nick, I promised him I wouldn't leave him."

Nick's expression hardened. "Either you leave or I have my people escort you out. Trust me, Howard, you don't want that."

"At least tell me if he's going to be okay," he said, his voice trembling. "Please."

"Don't come back here again or I'll have you detained." 

*****

Howard stood outside the SHIELD building and stared up at the night sky. His head hurt and his back hurt and it even hurt to breathe. He knew he should call Jarvis to pick him up, but he couldn't leave. Steve could be dying in there, wasting away to nothing or twisting and growing into something that didn’t even look human anymore. And he couldn't not know. He couldn't walk away, he just couldn't.

But he couldn't go back inside either. 

There wasn’t anyone he could call for help. The only person who might be able to walk in there and see Steve was Tony and… And Howard didn't want Tony to know what he had done to Steve. He didn't want Tony to know about the marks on Steve's body, the marks *he* put there.

Howard ran his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath. God, he needed to think. He needed to think about what he was going to do next. And then it hit him. There was someone he could call. There was someone who could help him. He should have thought of her before. He fished his cell out of his pocket and dialed her number. 

"Peggy," he said, "I need you to come pick me up."

*****

"Why are we standing outside SHIELD, Howard?" Peggy asked, her arms crossed over her chest.

"I need you to do me a favor. Steve is in there and he's sick and nobody's telling me anything about him. I know you still talk to Nick." He didn't say, I know he still tells you everything. "I need you to go in there and find out what's gong on."

Peggy looked at him for a long moment and he wondered if she was going to feign ignorance. "Why won't he tell you himself?"

"Peggy, please, I'm begging you," he said, his voice breaking. "I will get down on my knees if that's what you want. Just please, I need to know if he's all right. *Please.*"

She sighed in exasperation. "You'll owe me one."

"I'll owe you as many as you want."

"Go wait in the car. I'll be right back."

He rubbed his eyes and let out a deep breath. "Thank you."

She grumbled, walked to the front door, and looked into the security camera. "I need to talk to Fury. Tell him that Peggy Carter says to hurry the fuck up."

Howard climbed into her car and leaned back in the seat, closing his eyes. He tried let his mind wander on inconsequential things, but his mind kept coming back to the image of Steve, his cheeks flushed red with fever, looking up at Howard, terrified.

Fuck! He clenched his hands into fists and fought against the sudden and inexplicable pressure in his chest. He's not a bad guy, he's not. He wasn't abusing Steve because Steve *asked* him to do everything he did. Steve *enjoyed* it.

He wasn't… he wasn't abusing Steve. He wasn't his *father* who enjoyed giving pain, who enjoyed watching Howard writhe and cry out.

 _Except,_ said a niggling voice, _you do._

Howard fought down the sudden nausea at the thought. Because he did like it, liked the sharp cries, the flashes of pain, chased fast and hard by pleasure, that crossed Steve's face. Was sort of man like that? What sort of man hurt a sixteen year old boy and enjoyed it.

He barely, just barely, got the door open and leaned out before he was sick. When he was done, he wiped his mouth, settled back in his seat, and closed his eyes.

Ten minutes later, Peggy climbed behind the wheel of the car. Howard opened his eyes; she didn’t say anything, she just sat there, staring ahead, hands clutching the steering wheel. After a while, she put a key in the ignition and started the car.

"His fever's spiked again and he's having seizures. The doctors are trying to get them under control, but with a fever that high, it's not easy. Nick says he'll keep me apprised of Steve's condition." She didn’t look at him and she didn't ask.

Was that because she didn't believe he was a monster or because she did?

"Thank you," he said again, and he sounded like he'd been screaming for hours. 

"He was asking after you." Then she did look at him and he flinched at her expression. "His mother told him you left." 

Howard grunted softly and ignored the sudden flare of anger; it was true enough after all.

"Have you told Tony?" she asked as she pulled into traffic and he shook his head.

"It's late and he has finals this week."

"Someone should tell him. Steve's his best friend," Her tone is sharp.

"Be my guest." He couldn't deal with Tony right now.

"Wouldn't it be better coming from you?"

He laughed. He laughed until his chest hurt and his eyes watered and his laughter came in harsh, wracking sobs.

*****

Howard woke up screaming, his body soaked in sweat, trembling. He reached for his phone before he remembered that he couldn’t call Steve. Steve was in the SHIELD infirmary 

Was Steve begging someone to help him? Was he begging for mercy, for death? Was his metabolism eating him from the inside, leaving behind a shell of a boy. Was he dead?

The horror caught in Howard's throat and it sounded like a choked off cry. He curled into a ball, covered his head and told himself it was just a nightmare.

He'd wake up any second now and Steve would tell him he was being silly.

Any second now.

*****

"Jesus Christ, Howard, you look like shit," Obi said, striding into his office after a cursory knock.

Howard slowly looked up from the contracts he had been trying to read—not an easy feat when he'd only had about six hours of sleep in the past five days. "Thanks?"

Obi grabbed him by the chin, leaned over, and sniffed. "You don't smell drunk."

"That's because I'm not." 

"Who clocked you in the mouth?" Obi rubbed his thumb over the sore spot on Howard's lip; he jerked away.

He pushed Obi's hand away. "My boyfriend's mom."

"Fine, don't tell me." Obi's eyes narrowed. "Are you up for the Wesson meeting this afternoon?"

"I'll manage." He rolled his eyes when Obi glared at him. "Fuck, Obadiah, you worry too much. Take a pill." 

"Alright, alright, I'll change the subject. I hear the kid's coming home today." Howard stared at him blankly and Obi smirked. "He didn't tell you?" 

Howard slumped back in his chair. "He's pissed at me. His friend Steve is… sick and I wouldn't let him skip out of his last couple of finals and come home."

"Howard…"

"Don't 'Howard' me, Obi. I got an earful last night from Maria and I don't need it from you, too." He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "He's got to learn that he can't just push aside his responsibilities when emergencies arise. You've got to work through the distractions."

"Like you?" Obi asked.

Howard shrugged. "I'm here, aren't I?"

*****

On the sixth day, Steve's fever broke and his vital signs normalized. According to Peggy, the SHIELD doctors thought his fever had something to do with the serum and they were now closely monitoring Isaiah.

*****

Howard stared hard at circuitry laid out in front of him on his worktable, screwdriver in hand, and tried to ignore Tony's glare and the sound of his feet banging the table leg.

"He's asking for you," Tony said, finally, his voice rough with anger.

He tightened his grip on the screwdriver and picked up a circuit board. He told himself he wasn't going to react, and he didn't, except for his heartbeat, which sped up. "Who?"

"Steve!" Tony jumped off the stool. "Dad, he keeps asking where you are! He wants to see you and… and Sarah says you haven't been to see him at all! She says you left that first night!'

Howard swallowed back a bitter laugh; she hadn't told one lie. "I've been busy."

"What, with that?" Tony gestured to the circuitry. "This is toy, Dad! A fucking toy! Come with me to see Steve."

A lump rose in his throat and he clenched his teeth to keep from… from getting emotional. "I can't."

"Why not?" And Howard could hear the frustration in Tony's voice, the confusion. "He's scared and he thinks you've abandoned him. He thinks you're mad, that maybe… maybe you don't love him."

"He said that?" Worry colored his tone and he looked up. "That's ridiculous."

"Then tell him that!" Tony grabbed Howard's sleeve and tugged. "Come with me and tell him."

The temptation was horrible because he wanted to see Steve, he did. And not just see, Howard wanted to kiss him and touch him and promise him whatever he wanted. But he couldn't. He just couldn't. "Maybe later."

Tony made a sound of disgust and let go of his sleeve. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Howard wished he had an answer.

*****

Howard should have expected it. It was Steve, after all, and Steve was as stubborn as a mule. But he was still surprised when, two days later, he walked into this workshop and Steve was sitting at the table, looking pale and listless, dark circles under his eyes.

He took a few steps towards Steve, before stopping himself. He ached to kiss and hug and stroke Steve. But he didn't because Sarah was right, he was bad for Steve. He was a monster. "Should you be out of the infirmary? Does your mom know you're here? Does Fury?"

"You broke your promise to me," Steve said, rising to his feet.

"I was busy." He gestured to the pile of *junk* on his worktable.

"You didn't even bother to come see me once. Not even when I asked to see you." Steve crossed his arms over his chest and swayed n his feet.

"Steve, maybe you should sit down." Of course Steve was still weak. He'd been deathly ill a few short days ago. 

"Tony's taking me back to SHIELD in a minute, I just need to say this. I…" Steve's eyes filled with tears and Howard shoved his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching out. "I love you, Howard."

"I love you, too," he responded, helplessly. "Steve—"

"No, let me finish." Steve shook his head. "I love you, Howard. I love you so much. And I know you have responsibilities, important ones, but if the tables were turned, nothing would have stopped me from being right there with you. *Nothing.* And maybe you love me, maybe you do, but it's… I thought you loved me as much as I love you, but you don't."

I do, he wanted to say. Steve, I do, I do.

"I could have died," he whispered. "I might have died. And I was scared, so scared and you promised, Howard, You p-promised not to leave me!"

Howard looked away and clenched his hands tight. He had to hold on, he couldn't fall apart.

"But you broke it and I don't… I don't know if I can be with you anymore. I don't know if I want to be with you anymore." Steve let out a sob and Howard bit back one of his own. "I’m not breaking up with you. I just… I need time to think, we both do, about what we want."

His eyes stung and it was getting harder to breathe. "Yeah, alright." 

"I better go," Steve said, his voice shaking.

Howard didn't say anything until Steve was halfway out the door. "I'm sorry."

Steve looked back and the mask he'd been wearing crumbled. Tears slid down Steve's cheeks and his lips trembled, and he said in an angry torrent of words, "I don't care if you're sorry. I hate you and I wish I didn't love you!" Then he stumbled out in a rush of harsh sobs.

"God," he said into the quiet of the room, his breath coming in gasps, his chest aching with a pain that wasn't physical, "I need a drink."

**Author's Note:**

> God, I'm sorry for leaving it there. I really, really am. I already know how the next part is going to turn out, so I'll be writing it next. *runs away*


End file.
